Sea of Ice
by FreedomFighter50
Summary: It had just been a normal meeting between the countries of the world but ended with having an annoying micronation following after you like a lost puppy. You can't have this 'lost puppy' following you home and growing attached to the young boy, especially if he is your brother's kid. Your name is Iceland- human alias being Emil Stielsson-and you have some how fallen for him.
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: It had just been a normal meeting between the countries of the world but ended with having to have an annoying micronation following after you like a lost puppy. You can't have this 'lost puppy' following you home and growing attached to the young boy, especially if he is your brother's kid. Your name is Iceland- human alias being Emil Stielsson-and you have some how fallen for him. _

_I've somehow become attracted to this pairing after reading a fanfic and seeing pictures of these two adorable guys, now I must write...and expand on the couple a bit more. I will not have them go OOC, this is why I research about them and read other fics- to get a feel of the character and not demolish them in the process! Oh goody. :D_

_I do not own Hetalia._

* * *

He had gotten himself kicked out again, Iceland scowled at his Norweign brother's front door.

Hadn't he just told him that they were to leave for the conference right now? So why the change? Oh yes, that's right!

Stupid Denmark came over and whisked him away, that's what.

The Icelandic teen looked down at Mr. Puffin with unamused pink eyes, the bird looked up at his owner. It gave an indignant sqwauk and jumped from his arms. The white haired nation eyes changed to that of confusion and bent down to the pet's level.

"_Ditch, these guys! They don't give a crap about us right now, let's head to that goddamn hell hole and get it over with! I just wanna go home and check out the hot tourists that come in!_", Iceland held in a sigh at this. Typical bdirty puffin, always saying such things but at the same time it was true. He really wanted to go home and eat licorice (minus the tourists scandal) and possibly watch some movies. Nothing ever went on that was really important at the meetings, but this conference was said to be 'so (like) important that we could (like) probably die if we (like) don't go' as Poland had quoted over the phone. That was a big pile of bull, all the blonde wanted to do was see his beloved Lithuania. He could just leave now and forever hold his peace, surrender to the awful enemy that is laziness. But he was a smart nation, he didn't want to be punished by his boss with more paperwork.

"_-then we can just sneak to Norway's privet jet and-wah lah!- home free! So what to you say brat?_", he heard the puffin ask. Oops, he must have tuned the little guy out by mistake. Iceland shook his head and Mr. Puffin retorted with a wonderful array of Icelandic curse words. He pawned over some bread over to the obnoxious thing and had him silenced almost immediately. He winced as Mr. Puffin pecked as his gloved hand in excitement. Sometimes, he'd wished he had gotten a chick like Prussia. Then life would've been a bit easier, his could feel his hand aching.

"Are you done?", his tone was emotionless as per usual. He didn't give a care if it sounded harsh to others but his friend new better.

"_Thanks brat, I needed that. Now onward to that fucking hellhole, ahahahaha!_", he exclaimed enthuastically. Iceland felt the sudden urge to slap the bird over the head, but he was against animal abuse.

In about an hour or two of scavenging the streets of England and asking directions, the two had finally made it. The building could possibly compared to one of America's skyscrapers but he couldn't be sure if it was any taller than them. He shrugged it off and trudged inside as to which he became accquianted with some individuals from the government asking for his ID and again, being directed to the conference room by a beautiful assistant. He thrusted open the doors to find that the other countries had arrived and inwardly scowled as his vision came across Norway and Denmark chatting away (if you could call it that with Norway choking him with his tie) with his other Nordic brothers. Mr. Puffin began another fit of anger as he waddled awkwardly over to them and began pecking away at the two without any regard to his friend/owner.

"Let's get this shit started, kesesesese!", Prussia (the East German representative) screamed over the many people either fighting or conversing with one another. Iceland took his seat beside Hong Kong and watched as Germany began scolding his older brother then beginning to be scolded by Prussia himself for some odd reason. He ran his hands through snow colored hair and shut his pink eyes to relieve the headache he felt coming on.

"Get out of here, you bloody child! For the last time, you are not a country-you're a fort!", he heard a vase crash and opened his eyes to see what had happened now. There stood Britian himself hovering over a smaller version of himself, yelling at the other for the mess he had caused. He seemed oddly familiar.

"I am too a country, Jerk Britian!", the 'fort' retorted back. He had messy blonde hair, vibrant blue eyes, and slighty thick eyebrows. His attire consisted of a blue sailor suit and a little hat to go too, cute. 'Fort' seemed to also be holding a stuffed bear to join the appearance, it was a simple brown teddy bear with a red ribbon tied around it's neck, it appeared to be an old one at that, and a white sash on it's small torso. Mr. Puffin let out a laugh as he watched America and Russia 'battling' on the other side of the room.

"Get out or I'll call the men outside on your arse.", that threat seemed a bit harsh. Iceland's eyes watched as the other's cheeks turned red with embarrassment and fear started to crawl into his blue orbs. 'Fort' gave the other a nervous smile and a forced laugh, backing away a bit from the nation.

"You wouldn't do that to your own, wou-would you?", he stuttered. Britian shook his head and pressed a little remote control that he had sneakily brought out when he wasn't paying attention. A man marched in and threw the child over his shoulder, giving a nodd to the nation and walking out. That is not before 'Fort' had the last say in the matter.

"I'll be back in no time, just wait Jerk England! You will allow me to participate in these meeting-conference-whatever's someday and that day will be tomorrow, for I am Se-!", 'Fort' was cut off by the door closing shut by said 'Jerk England'. Iceland sighed, well what little entertainment that he had found approval in seemed to have left but as the meeting commenced, he couldn't help but think that he knew this 'Fort' person.

He vaguely remembered the little one coming up to him and proclaiming himself as the older of the two, saying that he would be his adviser of some sort. But afterwards they hadn't seen each other since and he couldn't honestly remember his name. Well then, 'Fort' it is. But it seemed that since seeing the other again, he couldn't keep his mind off him, so he didn't exactly pay attention at the meeting but he could always trick Denmark into give him the notes...or maybe he could just ask Finland. The Conference had thus been canceled about mid-point when a fight between Romania and Hungary had gotten a bit violent and due to England being a victim of a flying frying pan, it was to restart tomorrow. He couldn't help but let in the dark thoughts that he had been having sense about a week ago, when he had found about his real brother and Denmark being together. He felt his fist clench at the memory of the discovery nor the arguments that came with it. He collected his things and Mr. Puffin, making his way toward the doors when he felt something tug on one of his coat tails. He turned abruptly to the offender, only for it to be 'Fort'.

"I remember you! Why, how do you do? 'S been a while hasn't it?", the little blonde asked. Iceland merely stood over him and stared at the other in confusion. What could he possibly want with him?

"..Um...you alright?", he seemed to be getting intimidated by him. Iceland turned on his heel and made way toward the exit to freedom only to be stopped by the little blonde again. He had grabbed his gloved hand and looking up at him with a bit of reluctance. He did not want to deal with this, all he wanted to do was go home and eat licorice, screw the movies. He had no one to watch them with anyways, Mr. Puffin did God knows what elsewhere. And he needed to apologize to Norway for the trouble he has been giving him, maybe even convince him that Denmark wasn't good enough.

"Go away.", he growled acidly. He didn't mean for it to sound like it did but he just needed to go. 'Fort' backed away immediately and he stomped away, marching through the streets searching for his hotel room. He couldn't hear the pitter pattering of shoes following behind him from the blabbering of nonsense that spewed from his bird friend.

Nor the tumble and hiss that followed afterward.

* * *

_Wow, finished this in time. Well, hope you liked this chapter and updates will come soon depending if I finish some other crud._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everybody who has favorited, followed, and to Lady Sandra of Seland who had kindly reviewed! Made my heart leap when I say it and I must say thank you, I'm glad. I didn't think this story would bloom with this many liking it. But it's great._

_I do not own Hetalia._

* * *

He had been scolded by his 'father' when he finally noticed someone's gaze on his back, this had alarmed Sealand since no one would ever bother to pay any attention to a micronation like him. He glanced in their direction only to see the familiar back of Iceland, the person who he had failed to gain attention from as a person, someone to look up to, and a nation. Since then, it had left a huge dent in his pride. His cerulean eyes turned there attention back to 'father' before he felt himself being marched out of the meeting hall by the mean men. The slam of the door was all that he could process and breathed out a sigh of relief.

His relief turned to anger, he could've at least let him stay till the meeting began! That jerk couldn't just leave a kid outside alone, especially when it was raining! He stomped his foot in a manner that pertained to his physical age. He stopped once he realized how pointless it was to be standing out here and throwing a tantrum like a little kid, he should be trying to sneak in again. After a thorough look around the vicinity, it was soon found that the only other entrance inside would be through scaling the building and breaking in through a window. He wasn't that stupid enough to risk his hide for something like a meeting. Sealand sat down at a nearby dining table to wait for this nation's gathering to end, he played with his bear a bit to pass the time. He frowned when he found a new tear beginning to form along its stomach.

"Oh no, Teddy!", he cried out in panic. His best friend was in a poor condition after the years of use and it had been apparent for the last couple of years but he didn't bother with such a thing. Sealand felt his heart clench in guilt, he should've been taking better care of Teddy, he felt his lips tremble and eyes burning with frustrated tears but fought them back. He carefully placed the stuffed animal down and took out a needle and roll of thread from his pocket and began repairing his friend. Once he saw that it was safe till he could get proper help, he embraced it and sighed in relief.

"I should really be more careful, who knows what will happen. I can't think of a life without you, Teddy.", he whimpered at the thought. He heard the doors open and glanced, it was Iceland! Now was his chance! Sealand gently held his bear in a tight grip and headed over to the retreating nation. He grabbed a hold onto one of his coat tails to catch his attention, why did he have to be so big? This guy needs to slow down!

"I remember you! Why, how do you do? 'S been a while hasn't it?", Sealand said to him politely. Since the other was a real nation, the only way to be recognized as a nation would be by acting like a gentleman (unlike that stupid jerk England) and responsible adult. He stood up a little straighter when Iceland's pink eyes glanced down at him. His eyes held confusion, just like the last time. Sealand frowned.

"Um...you alright?", Iceland seemed to be growing a bit irritated which in turn frightened him a bit. Was he angry with him? He hadn't done anything though. He was surprised when the other turned on his heel with the shake of his head and made way to the exit. Sealand became alarmed by this and this time caught his hand once he caught up with the other in the rainy streets of his 'father's' city. Iceland wrenched his hand away for Sealand in frustration.

"Go away.", his voice sounded very threatening and intimidating to him. No one had ever said such a thing in the same tone that the other had spoken to him too. He recoiled in hurt, bits of fear dancing in his cerulean eyes. Iceland rushed through the crowd and he tried to catch up but there were too many people blocking his way and the ground was very slippery. It did not help the fact that he was wearing his rain boots on this weird concrete.

**_SLAM_**

Sealand huffed as he watched the Icelandic briskly walk away from him, his pale cheeks were crimson with annoyance. No one should ever brush him off like that! He rushed forward to catch up with the physically sixteen-year-old nation before he found himself kneeling on the floor with scraped, bloody knees. He let out a hiss and felt tears making there way through his defenses and a pained expression making way onto his twelve-year-old face. He watched the other's form slowly being swallowed up by the crowd of British citizens and felt his chance of redemption being crumbled away. No, it would not end like this. He will have the other calling him 'advisor' soon!

"Hey! Haa...wait up!", he scurried toward him. Just when he was about to grab his tailcoat, Britian had come into view with a scowl gracing his features and the rest of the United Kingdom not far behind. Sealand panicked and withheld from Iceland before heading the opposite direction, ignoring the burning on his knobby knees and alarmed look of his 'father'. He clutched his teddy bear to his chest for protection against the assults of water pouring down from the heavens, he could care less about his person. He was Sealand! Nothing can stop this principality with a goal.

"Wait, !", he found him later boarding a plane with his luggage and puffin. Sealand puffed out his cheeks in annoyance. Sealand had followed him aboard, a stowaway. He had his things set: money, a backpack with his clothes, his bear, a weapon, and a book for the long trip. He could careless about the jerks, he was still very persistent about becoming the others advisor after so long and maybe...just maybe...

They could be friends.

The concept sounded very exciting to Sealand, it's been awhile since he's had a real friend. Latvia never visited anymore, he was too bothered with his brothers, Estonia and Lithuania and the other micronations seemed to be very annoyed with him. Maybe that was why they didn't bother with him anymore and then there was the fact that Cyprus kept bullying him. It wasn't his fault really, the other micronation just made things very tense between the two. Whenever they crossed paths, a certain disturbing atmosphere would settle in the air and he would always feel himself choke on it. It was that disturbing to him. He sighed as he settled between the varies mountains of luggage and laid back against one of them.

"How long did the lady say it would take to get there?", looks like he was stuck here for a while.

* * *

_Sealand, you little sailor, you! Climbing aboard as a stowaway to infiltrate another's land? So much like Iggy daddy!_

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter and for many to come!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys, Merry Christmas! Thank you so far for the many follows and favorites to this story. Including to the people who have reviewed, thank you! Since my sleeping disorder is being pain in the butt, I'll write this chapter out before I find myself face first in my cereal asleep. Such a horrible death..._

_I do not own Hetalia._

* * *

Sealand groaned in impatience as he glanced out the little window of the aircraft carrier. It felt like ages that he's been down here, it was getting a bit harder to breath and the air was musty from the dust that had collected from the years of its use. He shoved away his things back into his bag and situated the accessory onto his person once again. Looks like it was time to land soon enough, he felt the plane jerk as it finally met ground. This sent the blonde flying forward and smack dab into a crate. He winced at the contact and glared down at the offending crate before sending out a kick in retaliation.

_CRACK!_

"Bloody hell!", he cried out. He heard the tall-tale sign of glass breaking from within it and backed away from the sight. The wood had smashed open from the force and had sent splinters in all directions. He ignored the state of his shoes and sped to the other side of the compartment. He knew of a way to escape this dreaded place, he hated being alone even if it meant this long. The little blonde pulled back the zipper to cargo that obviously belonged to a female tourist and removed some things before placing himself inside. He made sure to squeeze in small enough to bring along the rest of her clothes and zipped it back up. He sighed in relief when he late felt himself being carried away from the commotion a complaining old man and the flight attendents.

He yawned in exhaustion, the time change was rough. This was his first time going to another country besides his own and Arthur's. He sneakily came out from his hiding spot as the man carrying him settled him down and returned the items to their rightful place. He resealed it and scurried toward where the passengers unloading from the plane, he marveled. It was incredible, he had never really flown on a metal bird such as this before, he wasn't allowed to leave on his own. The Sealandic boy marched through the crowds of busy adults, obviously too deep in their work to pay any attention to him, and caught sight of his target. Iceland was easy to spot, being the only silver-haired teen around were know outside of the airport. The nation appeared to be boarding his car to his place, he felt his palms begin to sweat. Now what was he going to do! He couldn't possibly ask him if he could ride with him! He didn't even know he was here. Then there was the fact that he had never rode a taxi, he feared that he might be kidnapped like in those movies Arthur had watched with him.

_Only naughty boys go off alone, that's why they get taken away!_

He shivered in rememberance, it hadn't helped that his 'father' had also said it to him with a creepy look on his face.

"Oh drat, what do I do now!?", he felt panic rise when he saw the other begin packing his things. He looked to the side and found a taxi waiting for his next customer, it was now or never. He could always call for help or beat him up but it was against his wishes to do such a thing to a potential citizen. He clutched his teddy bear and stashed it back into his bag before marching over to his next goal. He put on his best smile and held out the necessary change for service.

"Hello sir, but may you take me to where I need to be going?", his British accent came out squeaky. It was so painfully obvious that he was scared of this man, the Icelandic citizen glanced up from his seat and looked him over.

"Name and Place?", he asked. This caught the other off guard and he could only reply in a flustered manner.

"Peter Kirkland, Sealand! S-sir!", the taxi driver looked bewilder at this. He obviously didn't know about his country, just like the rest of this world of jerks.

"Uh, I sort of meant where we're going...", Peter blushed in embarrassment. He hasn't ever really spoken to a foreigner, mostly he would converse with the young children in England or the occasionally elderly veterans around and play chess.

"Um, I want to follow my friend over there-," he jestered a side-glance to a preoccupied Iceland, "- and surprise him by visiting but I don't want him to know we're following him.", the blonde muttered. It was audible for the other to hear and this caused the elderly man to give forth a hearty laugh.

"So, you're friends with him, huh? Why didn't you say so! He's a good young man, no wonder such a little guy like you followed him.", he ruffled his hair. Peter frowned, he wasn't exactly friends with the other nor was he even that well aqquianted with him but that would change. And he was not a little guy! He couldn't protest since it wasn't polite to do so, so he let it slip by. He wasn't a child anyways, he was much more older than he appeared to be.

"Ummm...kinda..."

"What do you mean?", the Icelandic man questioned. He brought a hand to his scruffy chin and held suspicion in his dark eyes.

"Well, I want to change that and get to know him way better than I do know!", he beamed. _Haha, all I know about is him is that he seems to like puffins and Norway. I really suck when it comes to this, huh?_ He supposed this answer would satisfy the other, Peter glanced back at Iceland. He was trying to start his car, he had to hurry or he might lose him! The citizen seemed satisfyed with this and told him to hop on. He grinned and scurried into the back passenger seat, he hadn't been allowed by the man to be upfront since it was too dangerous for a 'child'. Child, his arse, he was...well, he couldn't exactly remember since it's been so long since he's celebrated his birthday. He watched through the tinted window as Iceland drove ahead of them, he seemed very agitated.

* * *

Emil couldn't believe the nerve of the tourists, bringing their crying and screaming children aboard and not bothering to apprehend them from their horrible behavior. He had had to seat calmly and contain his temper throughout the whole trip as a ten-year-old child was kicking the back of his seat in a temper tantrum. The brat had gotten an earful from the flight attendent, he smirked at the memory, served the kid right. He rubbed his back to relieve the stiffness and pain somewhat. Maybe he should've used his ability to travel faster like most normal countries did but he really didn't want to deal with the after effects. Only stupid ones did that or if they were masocists.

_"Hey, what's taking so long?!"_, he heard from below. Mr. Puffin huffed in annoyance as he was strapped to the baby seat of his car. He was currently waiting to be situated in, the bird wanted the humilation to end soon.

"Oh sorry, here, let me get this.", he grumbled. Emil clipped in the belt and closed the car door, making his way to the driver's seat. He hopped in and started up the car, only for it to begin being difficult with him. _Of all the days!_

"Ugh, come on! I want to go home!", he heard the bird chuckle.

_"You sound like the little brat from earlier, hahahaha!"_

"Shut up, you...", he only heard the other continue cackling in reply. _Whatever._

_"So I've been wondering...why were you so pissy? Didn't get any last night or what?"_, Emil sputtered.

"What the hell? I wasn't pissy."

_"Don't bullshit me, brat! Now tell old Uncle Mr. Puffin, what's been bothering you~"_, the puffin jabbed. The nation seemed a bit uncomfortable by this but reasoned that the other wouldn't stop till he got something out of it. And the fact that he was his best friend, and only friend besides old man Turkey. He tried again and smiled a bit when the automobile complied this time and burst into life. Emil turned to face the other, maybe he himself could bullshit out of this.

"No-!", the puffin gave him a disapproving look.

"Fine, it's about Norway and stupid Denmark.", he mumbled. But it was audible to his companion.

_"It's always about those two! Get a life already and make some friends! Norway and Danish Douche can just go at it on the couch whenever they like but just because Norway hasn't been talking with you or do girly shit with you anymore, doesn't mean you can go around being depressed and PMS-ing all over the place! Jesus, kid-!"_, the talking animal paused when he caught sight of Iceland's blank expression in the car mirror's reflection. He had gone a bit too far with his rant, he decided he was better off just staying quiet. Emil hid his raging emotions, he didn't want to show them to his friend, he didn't want to scare him but either way it was pointless since he took note to the other's silence.

"We'll be there in a bit."

* * *

Peter handed over the correct change to the citizen and made his way of the taxi with his things with him. He removed his cap and nervously toyed with it as he stared at the two story house that belonged to Iceland himself. It was beautiful and nicely well kept, there was also a garden in the back. He cautiously stepped onto the property just as the taxi driver left and peered in through the window, he saw the silver-haired nation lounged on his couch in deep sleep. He shivered from the cold, maybe coming his usual sailor outfit had been a foolish idea. He couldn't exactly feel his feet, hands, or face anymore. He wanted warmth, _now. _The little blonde sccuried around to the back of the house looking for someway in, he heard a tapping sound. He looked up at the source of the sound. A puffin was banging his head against the window of what he could assume was the bedroom window. The little guy didn't seem to notice him, nor the fact that it was being jostled adjar.

_"Stupid, stupid, stupid! I'm such a stupid, handsome, cool -but still stupid- puffin!"_, his chants were being muffled by the glass. The Sealandic boy marveled, it could talk! He didn't know that! The blonde took a step forward and felt his feet sink into the snow, he bit back a scream of surprise. He clamped his hand onto his mouth when his strangled whine brought the attention of Iceland's companion. He did the only thing he knew to do to insure his secrecy.

He practically burried himself into the mountain of snow, with no protection from the cold whatsoever.

"Oh bloody hell!", he whimpered. It burned so badly, he wasn't used to this at all!

...

Mr. Puffin had taken to sulking upstairs in the guest bedroom, he hadn't meant to hurt the other's feelings. Most of what he said was true though! He had previously been banging his head against the window when an odd yelp sounded from below. He stopped almost immediately and looked down to see the cause of it. All he really saw was just the snow covered concrete and a small hand covered in snow, if he could smirk then he would've.

Seems like Emil has a secret admirer.

It was the hand of child, possibly older. He hadn't had his daily dose of mischief happen in awhile, so maybe...

He used his beck to open the window halfway for the other. Mr. Puffin jumped down from the table and landed to the carpetted floor. He inwardly frowned at the empty room, he didn't like it one bit. He glanced back at the window before toddling out of the room to the stairs. Should he warn Emil of the intruder?

_"Naw! Stupid brat needs some humor in his life. Now, time to eat some of those fishies he brought in last week."_

...

Once he was sure the bird was out of sight, Peter leapt from the pile and started attempting to warm himself up. Now he couldn't feel his body anymore! He decided that he didn't like the snow anymore at this point, no matter how pretty it was! The micronation hurried up the side of the house, via pipes, and made his way to the window. He wasted no time in climbing inside.

"Ah, I'm soaking wet! Is everything safe?!", he whispered. He didn't want to alert the Icelandic nation of his presence, he would probably kick him out. The blonde took off his backpack and searched through it, it was a little damp but it would like much damage to his books. What concerned him the most was his stuffed bear and other necessities so to speak. He reached in and grabbed his small pistol, he wasn't an old war fort for nothing. He hadn't killed the tendency to bring it with him since World War II, he smiled as a feeling of security fell over him. He stashed it away and held his prized possesion away from his wet body. This wouldn't do at all, even his other set of clothes were wet. Now what was he going to do. And he didn't want to get Iceland mad with him about bringing in snow into his home besides breaking and entering.

"What to I do now?", he thought aloud.

"How about leaving."

* * *

_Finished chapter! And it's still not as much as I usually write. Oh well!_

_-FreedomFighter50_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for the lovely reviews, follows, and favorites!_

_I do not own Hetalia.  
_

* * *

Emil had been sleeping peacefully, it had been almost an hour since he had collapsed on his couch. He blinked open violet colored eyes as the light of the lamp seemed to have disoriented his sight. Rubbing his eyes, he sat himself up from his awkward position. He hadn't had a dream in so long, even now that didn't change. He glanced down at the floor, there were pieces of licorice and bits of fish scatter on the ground. Mr. Puffin must have gone through his stash, damn.

"So annoying.", he grumbled. The silver haired male stood up and begin picking up the trash, later disposing them into a trash bag. His eyes lazily scanned for anymore debris. Deciding that it was clean enough, Emil headed off to the bathroom for a warm shower. He felt disgusting at the moment. Coated in what seemed like a layer of sugar, probably Mr. Puffin trying to be funny. Emil came up the stairs and went on his merry way to his shower when he caught sight of a figure in the guest room. The door had been cracked open earlier, it seemed. The silver haired nation peeked in and immediately scowled. It was Fort again, how did he get inside the window anyways? And what was up with Lukas' copy of his sailor suit? He was about to step in when he saw the gun in his small hand.

"...", how on Earth had he gotten a hold of such a thing? He had thought Fort would not be able to do such a thing. Emil quietly stepped inside, hovered over the others' distracted form. Violet eyes watched as he packed each of his things and finally gingerly putting his stuffed animal on top of the cabinet. The bear was old, battered, and yet well-taken cared of. The Icelandic teen shook his head and crossed his arms. This was no time for being overly observant of the little guy. He was just that, an intruder, and nothing else.

"What should I do now?"

"How about leaving.", he said in a calm tone. The small blond froze instantly at the sound of his voice. Turning his head to face him, Fort wore a look of shock. He got a better look at his features now. Slightly bushy eyebrows, deep oceanic blue eyes, and a little baby fat still gracing his pale face. His pink lips seemed to be turning blue from what was obvious evidence of being buried in the snow from what he could see. His knees were scrapped rather painfully, turning pinking. A sign of infection. Fort could only be physically around ten to eleven-years-old but he knew better than to believe his apparent age.

"H-He-Hello, si-sir. Ni-Nice to Mee-meet you!", Peter's voice quivered. He couldn't tell if it was from fright or the fact that he was freezing right before Iceland. His height was intimidating and not helping the situation. His expression seemed blank and eyes as cold as ice, just like in his countries' name. The Selandic child held out a hand, just like what any gentleman would do to any stranger. But there was no response to his gesture.

"Hm...", he didn't return the others' gesture. Who would with an intruder standing before you at the scene of the crime.

_"Hey brat! Hurry up and make me food! I'm hungry, feed me! Oh yeah, and bring brat number two, will ya? You anti-social freak!"_, the puffin screeched from downstairs. It took a minute for the animal to make it to the top and another to the doorway of the room. Mr. Puffin flew over in between the two personifications.

_"Didn't you hear me, brat!? I said, make me food and bring brat number two over! It isn't polite to live a guest hanging like that, didn't the adorable and cool me, Mr. Puffin, show you manners! Tch!"_, the bird said. Emil glared at his companion while Peter marveled. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea of a talking puffin. Maybe he should introduce him to his pet, seagull and possibly his goat too. _  
_

"I didn't invite anyone.", Emil deadpanned. Fort winced at this, which caused the silvered haired teen to frown at. Mr. Puffin snorted.

_"Well I did, brat. Don't forget, this is my house to and so when I say we have a guest, we have a guest! Now come one, brat number two, you're getting my carpet wet and I'm sure that...lovely bear wouldn't mind me company."_, the puffin chuckled. The Nordic country felt disturbed with the way things were going. That and the fact that his best friend had even implied such a thing. He wasn't sure he could see that bear the same way again with the mental images that had gone through his head.

"Uh...A-Are yo-you su-sure?", Peter rubbed his hands against his forearms for warmth. Oh, how he wished for some kind of warmth. The small blond stood up and cringed when a couple droplets dripped to the soggy floor. He glanced up at the silverette and bowed his head in apology when he caught glimpse of anger in his violet eyes. He hadn't meant for any of this to happen. He really hadn't, he had just wanted to reconnect with Iceland, even if it meant going as far as to following him home.

"Hmph, fine. Just...don't get in my way, alright?", 'Iceland' sighed in defeat. He just wanted to relax, might as while let puffin drive the kid away with his annoying voice. The only voice he could stand.

_"And where are you going, brat? I did say you were cooking for me, didn't I? SO that means you'll be hanging around with us for the day and there ain't shit that you can do about it."_, Maybe having Mr. Puffin and Gilbird meet had been the worst idea he had ever head. He regretted ever making that decision with Prussia.

"Hmph..."

_"Damn kid, you're such a pushover! Hey, why haven't you said anything, brat number two?!"_ Peter fiddled with his sleeves nervously as the taller nation glared down at him. The puffin sighed, he couldn't let the brat unwind when he was doing that to the little one. God, he really need to get therapy or something. The silver haired teen couldn't make friends without intimidating the living shit out of them to save his life. He wondered how he had met this idiot and the Nordics but that thought was left for another time.

"So-sorry, just not so used to...well, this kind of...", the blond was speechless of his awesomeness! He could see childish amusement dancing in his sea of blue eyes. Peter couldn't utter a word, to terrified with this different Iceland. He had always known the cool, calm one but this was a mean and scary one. He stood up and all but scurried out of the room with Iceland's companion in tow.

Emil stayed behind and glared at the still open window, closing it and breathing in a deep sigh.

"I should really get locks on these, or better yet- stop being a _pushover_."

_"Hey! Make me food, Icy! We don't have all day!"_

He really need to stop being a pushover, _now_.

* * *

Peter sat at the kitchen table. The edge reaching to about his chest and his legs not even close to reaching the ground. He was miffed at the odd size of the furniture, everything looked big for some reason. He glanced back at the Icelandic nation, watching him prepare a dish. Mr. Puffin sat across from him, staring him down. Studying his features, the way he moved, and how he fiddled with the backpack in his hands. His teddy bear tucked inside from harms way.

" So...been a while, huh?", he said. He felt awkward with the pregnant silence that had descended upon them since entering the room. He hated the silence. No, he loathed it.

"...I suppose...", Emil replied. The nation had felt equally awkward, not used to having others over to his home besides the Nordics. He breathed in the sweet aroma of his traditional dish and let out a smile of approval. This was good enough, maybe once he was done. Then he would leave him in peace.

_"What are ya making, Icy?" _The animal wanted to add his two cents in. Turning his beady eyes onto his best friend then back to the new boy. He hadn't lied about inviting the other in. He had allowed him inside, with his permission so technically the sailor suit kid was his guest. But Mr. Puffin was, well, a puffin. He couldn't cook nor do much without hands, so this was where Emil came in. Because this nation was such a good friend, decided that he would be the one to do it. Emil had gone with it, no problems or complaints brought up.

"I'm making...", he placed the remaining ingredient into the concoction. The Sealandic boy raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer to the question. Obviously curious.

_"Hrísgrjónagrautur"_

"A what?"

"It's rice pudding." It also used to be a former prime minister's favorite food apparently, he added in mentally. The blond only nodded and faced the table when his violet eyed gaze returned to him. He blinked in confusion.  
Mr. Puffin could only shake his head. Such an idiot.

The silver haired nation set down the plates and utensils, making sure to grab some milk for the three of them. He gazed back at the other, watching him taking a bite out of his food. He secretly wanted to know what he thought of it. Usually people would find his food very strange. He deflated when a thought came to mind, this was England's friend, so he probably didn't have an taste buds left to savor it. Probably devour it like Australia and America would, the poor men.

" This is so delicious, this is way better than Mama Tino or Papa Berwald!", 'Fort' proclaimed.

"..." He didn't how to respond other than.

"Thank you, Fort." He heard the other drop his fork in shock and gaze up at him.

"Um...uh, my name isn't 'Fort'..."

* * *

_Just a very short chapter, sorry for the wait. Well, looks like someone's done. _

_Hrísgrjónagrautur_- 1 /2 litre water 200 gr. rice (do not use quick-cook or instant) 1 1/2 litre whole milk 1 tsp. salt

Cook the rice in the water until it's almost completely absorbed. Add the milk and lower the heat to simmer. Continue cooking until the rice is tender (the whole process takes about an hour). Add salt and serve with cinnamon sugar.

- cook a handful of raisins with the rice for a few minutes before serving, for an authentic, old-fashioned "_rúsínugrautur_" (raisin' pudding).

- The pudding is usually eaten with milk or "_saft_" - a sweet drink made with berry syrup (raspberry, red currant or crowberry tastes best). Some people serve the pudding cold with hot caramel sauce at Christmas.

_Instructions from a website, just look up traditional Icelandic dishes, a lot of yummy surprises. I'm thinking of my this one this weekend._

_See you guys next time._


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites and follows! _

_Hey guys, back in business for it is a week day in which I have some free time for once! God, too much work and no relaxation. Ah, a vanilla-caramel flavored cup of coffee sounds good right now~.  
_

_I do not own Hetalia.  
_

* * *

_"..." He didn't how to respond other than._

_"Thank you, Fort." He heard the other drop his fork in shock and gaze up at him._

_"Um...uh, my name isn't 'Fort'..."_

* * *

Peter couldn't believe what Iceland had just called him. That one syllable word, the name stamped onto him by his older brother (technically father since he built him, really), that word that has haunted him since the end days of Arthur's battle fort use. He gazed back at Iceland, had he known this? Had he decided to use the name against him in hopes of driving him away, like everyone else? He could understand why though, he had broken into his home, dripped water all over the place and had the gull to sit here at his table eating his food. Peter would've been mad too if that happened. Other reasons pertaining to the metal floor of his land rusting from the liquid meeting its surface.

"Oh...uh...", the elder started. Peter merely returned to eating the rice pudding. Waiting to hear what was expected. He might as well finish his food up before anything happened. It would be impolite to leave food unfinished even if the other didn't want him to be there, the blond knew better than that.

Emil, himself, was embarrassed with this new situation. He fought down a blush as the child before him continued to eat his dessert. He has never been confronted with this kind of mistake before, he knew everyone's names. Human or nation name, depending what they go by with him. He combed his bangs back before allowing them to fall back into place. His lips formed into a pout as he thought of a way to distinguish the awkward atmosphere. His puffin companion continued to devour his mountain of fish (he had decided to do this in order to have _some_ peace), glanced up at him. Mr. Puffin snorted in his to-cool-for-you-and-everyone-alive attitude before returning to his food. Emil scowled down at him, what a friend this guy was. The best.

"Well...I only assumed...", he thought his next words over. He didn't want to upset the blond too much, even over how he hadn't known his name and, sadly, insulted him with it. He swallowed as the kitchen became silent again, God, this was just too embarrassing. Norway would probably be laughing his butt off somewhere in Hell with his bro-the other Nordics.

"...that 'Fort' was your name since Britain did yell that into your face...I could only assume it was...", he said carefully. Guest or not, he didn't want a bawling little kid at his table. The kid would probably cry large crocodile tears and run off to his parents or even worse, if that parent was England (again, he could only assume) then he was most likely screwed. The blond boy looked up, already finished with his pudding cup and now toying with his wet sleeve in what seemed to be like an annoyed manner.

"He always calls me that, I hate that name you know. 'Fort' used to be my old name, but I'm not 'Roughs' anymore. My name is 'Sealand' now. Arthur is just being too much of an uptight jerk to see that, dumb old man.", he pouted. His childish demeanor coming to light. Emil almost sighed in relief, glad that nothing wrong had resulted in his slightly monotone voice. He wasn't exactly the type to break the news or comfort, at least that was what he thought. He'd never had to deal with that because it was usually Tino who would handle that.

"Ah...well nice to meet you then, uh Sealand?"

"You can call me Peter! Peter Kirkland. And yourself?", he said happily. His hand extended once again in a polite gesture. Iceland had been about to give him his reply when he thoughts went back to the open window and wet floor, then the fact that sugar had been sprinkled upon his body when he had been asleep. He needed a shower and to get this (nation?) kid out of here. He decided to play along for just this once, the quicker the better.

"Iceland, Emil Stielsson.", he said so curtly. He gained a smile of approval from Peter.

"Nice to finally meet you properly.", Peter said. The blond took note to the fact that the suffocating atmosphere had lightened up a large amount. He could cry from relief, at least it hadn't ended with him on the floor being pummeled to death by Iceland in a Cyprus-like manner. He inwardly winced at the memory, thank goodness his body had been rock solid. His country was made of metal, like any old sea fort, but over the years, rust had accumulated. His body had softened up considerably, so know he was just like any other country, soft to touch. The Sealandic child noted that he needed to make extra repairs on his land and polish away the rust if possible. The silver-haired nation nodded.

"Likewise.", he replied properly. He could feel his awkward accent coming into play, he shut his mouth in an attempt of ridding himself of it. The boy would probably make fun of him. But it seemed that he had failed in doing so. Peter had indeed caught on to it and his eyes sparkled in curiosity.

"Is that what your accent sounds like? It's really pretty!", he exclaimed. His response had been honest, no 'nation' as young as he was could possibly said that without a straight face. Peter himself was amazed. He had assumed Iceland would have a Norweign-like accent, since he had never heard his before. He wished he had his own accent, all he had was this annoying British. Why couldn't he have something of his own to share! He mentally shook the little bit of jealousy away and returned his attention to the physically sixteen-year-old Icelandic.

"Really?" Emil felt like biting his tongue when he heard his own accent. He would usually burst forth with said accent without worry within his home, albeit if he ever switched to English for just a bit. But to have someone, who spoke English very well, a strange 'nation kid' was a bit odd.

"Of course, it does! Why wouldn't it be?", was the boy's reply. Emil coughed into his hand, a strangled 'thank you' having been attempted to say. He stood up and his gaze briefly scanned the hallway before returning to his guest and bird friend. He was a bit surprised to see Mr. Puffin paying close attention to his interaction with the newly named 'Sealand'.

_"You guys done? I really want to watch a movie or something. How about an action movie? Horror? If it's going to be a horror film can it have zombies or something,. vampires? Not that Twilight shit America got forced to film."_, the bird asked. A movie? He thought it over, possibly. Maybe it could entertain Peter for awhile, he could have time to call up Arthur to pick him up. But that would take days to get here, but even so. As long as he was out of his hair then everything would be alright.

"Jà, but try not to break anything. I'm going to shower, thanks Mr. Puffin.", he said so sarcasticly. The puffin winked back at him.

_"No problem, kiddo! I thought you needed something sweet, you know."_, he chirped. The Icelandic turned back to Peter and glanced down at his damp form. Peter merely looked back at him, curious as to what was going on.

"Just stay here with Mr. Puffin. Don't try to do anything he tells you to do, he'll use you to his advantage. Just sit on the couch till he picks out a movie.", he instructed. Peter nodded in response. Emily thought over giving him a new batch of clothing before debating against it and mentally shrugged. He was old enough to deal with it. Getting a little wet wasn't a problem, he was almost dry anyways.

"And if he breaks anything...just don't try to pick it up, you might hurt yourself-", that and he didn't want blood on his carpet, "-so just stay clear of it till I get back.", another nod. The nation glanced back at his puffin, giving him a silent warning.

_"Hey, don't look at me like that! I don't break shit."_

"Don't lie and stop cursing."

_"Oh! Look who finally grew a pair!"_, his puffin exclaimed. Peter obviously didn't get the jab but Iceland's expression darkened for a moment before turning smug.

"...No fish for a week." This sent Mr. Puffin into a fit of apologies. He was screeching out alarmed cries and begging for 'no baby food'. The Sealandic boy giggled in response to their silly argument. The two couldn't help but look back, not being used to someone over hearing them nor having someone joining into their conversation. Even if it was a slight response. Peter blushed in embarrassment, he hadn't just done that. Did he? Blast it all, curse his physical age! Nations have a tendency to act as to their opposed physical age at times, something that would be the joke of the meeting once in a while.

"So, uh, Jà. I'll be back in a bit. Don't do anything stupid." And with that he left.

* * *

Peter sat there in silence, a first, as he watched the talking animal humming. His wings brushing against the containers of DVDs stacked beside a self of books. He instinctively reached into his bag and retrieved his stuffed bear. Peter buried his cold nose into the fluffy material of his friend. He smiled as he caught the scent of sea salt tickling his sense of smell. Just like home. His real home, on his base with his very few citizens. His official citizens who he cherished and loved. They stuck by him when the worse had come to their little home. He was shaken out of his memories by Iceland's pet.

_"Why do you always have that bear with ya, kid? So far, I've always seen ya with it."_, he heard the puffin. Peter clutched his bear a little tighter in response. No one had ever asked, neither had Finland or Sweden. They didn't really care for him anymore, that was back in the day when he had been bought by Sweden on Ebay. Kept in his home, safe. Heck, neither had Arthur but he supposed it was due to hiding his friend from him.

"Um..." He couldn't just simply spill out his secret. The secret of keeping the bear Arthur had given to him, at the time as England respectively, when he had been nothing more than an infant fort personification. He had worn his white gown and red bow as any other nation had been found.

_"You don't hafta tell me, just curious."_, Mr. Puffin mumbled under his breath. He snatched a movie at random, having been bored with the many label of Icelandic movies and flew over to the child's side.

_"Would this work out for ya?__"_, he asked. Again, his guest so he must be polite and considerate. Naw! He chuckled to himself, impossible but then again. He glanced at the title of the movie and summary. This was a pretty hardcore movie and this was a kid he was talking about here! He couldn't have him scared shitless and unable to sleep at night. Peter couldn't understand what was written on the base, he looked at the vast detail of the four scenes that were displayed on the back. Each a scene from the movie itself. He supposed it was alright, he just hoped he could understand what was being said.

"Uh, sure."

Peter watched as Puffin slide the disk in through the strange contraption. He supposed this was a DVD player that Seborga and Wy would always talk about. He wasn't exactly up-to-date with technology these days, seeing as he lived outside in the middle of the ocean. He shrugged and reached into his bag again, fingers dancing across wet cloth and soon meeting the solid surface or a slightly damp but dry book.

* * *

Emil got out of the shower fairly quick. He inhaled the scent of soap and gave a soft smile, finally! Clean at last, he thought. The nation went back to his room and changed into something a bit more comfortable, he checked the time.

5:43pm

"Should be appropriate to call...", he mumbled. He picked up his home phone and quickly dialed the memorized number in. He heard the annoying rings of the phone going off on the other end and sighed when he heard the dial tone. Disappointment flooding into his system before quickly being forced away. Looks like he'd have to wait for a bit. Two minutes had passed and he had attempted to get a hold of the Briton once again to no avail. He tried about three more times before giving up. It was already apparent that England was busy or simple just ignoring him. Well, he did get hit by Elizabeta's frying pan. He shouldn't expect him to answer the phone for a while till he recovers, probably in the next couple of hours or so. He glanced out into the hallway when he heard the television blast on with full volume. He groaned in annoyance.

"Lower the volume down, Puffin! The neighbors are going to complain again!", he called out.

_"Nah! They can suck it! This is my favorite movie!"_, the puffin exclaimed. He faintly heard a whimper over the noise, he vaguely wondered what that was about. But he decided to dismiss that.

"Which one? You have too many favorites.", he said. Emil was making his way toward the living room, hands shoved into his jean pockets. He turned the corner. He found the Sealandic child seated obediently on his couch and Mr. Puffin pecking at the remote.

_"Ehhhh...can't remember the name but it has really cute girls in it!"_, the bird chirped. Iceland wondered why his best friend always had his mind on himself and women, it was really starting to get on his nerves. Sealand was, once again clutching his stuffed animal and reading a rather large book. The text obviously in English, he must have gotten bored with watching Mr. Puffin mindlessly pecking at random buttons on the control. There was only static buzzing across his screen and the sound of a swarm of bees ringing through his ears. The silver haired nation sighed again.

"Give me the remote."

_"Hell no! I totally got this!"_

"Just stop it, you already made cracks in it again."

_"But I can do it!"_

"You obviously can't if my t.v. is like that.", he pointed over to the box. Mr. Puffin huffed in defeated and stepped away from the hand held device. Emil made his way over and glanced briefly at the page Peter was currently on, the blond seemed to be really deep into this book. He didn't so much as glance back at him when he made himself comfortable on his own couch. The Icelandic 'teen' ran a hand through his wet hair and ruffled it up, his hair returning to his full volume and drying it just a bit. He left the books hard cover back to read the title. He felt the youngster jump in surprise. _  
_

"Peter Pan, huh?"

"Yes, um...well, I really like the adventure and yeah...", he heard him mumble. Sealand looked down at his shoes thinking of a way to explain his fascination with this particular piece of literature. He sprung his head back up to meet him, eyes to chest seeing as he was considerably taller than the other. He had a grin gracing his features and eyes once again beaming with excitement.

"Well, I've read it before I go to sleep every night. Ever since it had come out. It's so amazing! Tinker Bell and the Lost Boys! But you can never forget Peter Pan and Captain Hook, it never gets boring at all! And then-!", he stopped suddenly. Emil raised an eyebrow in question. He seemed to have retreated into himself, as if he were trying to compose himself back into the silent child he had been. The blond sat up more properly and put on the most serious face he could muster, which wasn't much. It was a laughable attempt to appear more mature, like an adult.

"Uh, excuse me. Sorry about that."

"..." He decided not to reply. But there wasn't anything wrong with getting carried away like that, but he supposed the other would have to realize that himself. That and he didn't exactly want to interact with him too much. Emil clicked on the television back to its regular state, he removed the disc and checked the box it had been in. Nope, he shouldn't have expected Mr. Puffin to choose a proper film to a guest. He wasn't one for much consideration. He checked around his cabinet for another DVD. He succeeded in finding one with subtitles. The Nordic member popped in the disk and plopped back down in between Peter and said inconsiderate friend. He clicked on the movie and previews began. Since he didn't like them (in his opinion, they were pretty damn pointless seeing as he had seen all of them), he decided to fast forward it. He felt something tug on his sleeve. His violet eyes glanced down to find curious cerulean eyes looking back at him. He pointed over silently to his VCR.

"What is that called?"

"A VCR. Haven't you seen one before?", he scoffed. Sealand dismissed the attitude shown toward him.

"Not really...", he said so with a shrug. Iceland ignored his reply and pressed play. Not wanting to hear another word from either individuals and just drown into the dialogues of each character. Into the pointless plot the director had constructed. He leaned back into the soft cushions of his furniture and yawned in exhaustion. Such a crazy day, even worse than that New Years fiasco. He felt his eye lids slowly flutter shut and muscles relax.

* * *

_A/N: Such a crazy day indeed. Meeting a weird kid who sneaks into your house through the bedroom window, cook for him, having to keep him in your home till 'mommy' comes to pick him up. Iceland is technically his babysitter for the day. In my head cannon, Sealand tries his hardest to be more 'adult-like' seeing as he was raised to grow pretty fast as in preparation for the war he would have to play a role in. But in the end nothing much had happened, so as a result, he still sees himself as to being an adult. Whenever he stirs back into his childish, twelve-year-old self, he gets frustrated with himself and embarrassed._

_All in all, he grew up too fast and he doesn't want to make up for it.  
_

_Usually most would try to, seeing as my dad and grandmother tend to act like little kids. Back in th days when they had lived in Mexico, they had had to work from the tender age of five (about the time they can walk, talk, and do everyday things others can). Mostly work in construction or work as a maid around the villages in which they lived in and later delve themselves more into their work. So now that things aren't as bad, they take any type of opportunity to try and act like kids. Unlike, Sealand here. He isn't too fond with that idea. It doesn't help that other nations make jabs at him for being the kid that he physically is.  
_

_I think Icelandic accents are cute, nuff said.  
_


End file.
